


It's Time

by deanna_s_winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 7deadlysinschallenge, Angst, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff, SPN - Freeform, spn fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 16:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16895796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanna_s_winchester/pseuds/deanna_s_winchester
Summary: Word Count: 2,210Pairing: Dean x readerWarnings: Angst, fluffNote: This was my contribution to a writing challenge on tumblr (@ain-t-bovvered and @waywardbaby‘s 7 Deadly Sins Challenge). I hadn't written a fic in years so bear with me if it's a bit rusty.





	It's Time

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 2,210
> 
> Pairing: Dean x reader
> 
> Warnings: Angst, fluff
> 
> Note: This was my contribution to a writing challenge on tumblr (@ain-t-bovvered and @waywardbaby‘s 7 Deadly Sins Challenge). I hadn't written a fic in years so bear with me if it's a bit rusty.

It was a busy night. The dim lights and loud music did nothing to distract you from how many people were there. It was hardly suprising, really. It was, after all, a Friday night.

You and the boys had just finished a hunt and decided to go get wasted at the nearest bar as an impromptu celebration. It hadn’t been this full at first. The night had stared out with the three of you and a few others here and there. It had been full of laughs and you had enjoyed spending some down time just the three of you. But then 9 o'clock had arrived and it was almost like a damn had broke, flooding the bar’s interior with people. Dean had quickly abandoned Sam and you, hot on the trail of some hot blonde or another which of course wasn’t anything new.

Most of the time, you were able to ignore the way your gut twisted when Dean found someone else to spend the night with. The two of you had this friends with benefits thing going on. A welcome distraction when things got tough or boredom set in.

Tonight though, for whatever reason, it was getting to you. You couldn’t help but watch him across the bar, chatting up a girl on the stool next to him. Long legs, narrow waist, big boobs, perfect hair; your complete opposite. You downed the last of your drink and went up to order another.

“Another glass of Jack,” you told the man behind the bar. The music and hum of people talking thrummed in your ears, and you closed your eyes as you waited for the bartender to get you your whiskey. You knew that you probably should stop, you’d been at it for hours now and were going to hate yourself when you woke up with a hangover in the morning. But this was the only way you knew how to drown out your jealousy.

“You sure another is a good idea?” came Dean’s deep and familiar voice from behind. You turned halfway to look at him, smiling down at you with that cocky grin of his. You rolled your eyes, instantly regretting it when it made your head spin.

“Are you sure another is NOT a good idea?” you countered, as the bartender set down a newly poured glass in front of you. You smiled at him as you took it, drinking half of it down with one gulp.

Dean raised an eyebrow at you, before nodding. “Alright, fair enough. Just leave some for everone else, alright?” You gave him a little salute, which made him laugh. “Listen, I’m going to be out late, so don’t wait up for me.” He glances over at the door to the bar, and you follow his gaze to see the blonde he had been chatting up earlier. Your heart aches at the thought of what he was going to be doing with her, but you pushed it aside when he looked back at you. “Wish me luck,” he says, squeezing your shoulder before slipping past you.

You watch him leave, arm slung around the girls waist, a look of animalistic desire on his face. You find yourself wishing it was you he was leaving with. Turning back to the bar, cupping your drink in both hands, your eyes find their way to the mirror behind the bar. You frowned at your reflection.

‘Get over yourself Y/N’ you thought to yourself.

You down the rest of the whiskey in your glass, relishing the burn as it slides down your throat, and look back at your reflection.

'It’s never going to happen. You need to move on.’

———

Back in your room at the bunker, you lay awake in the early hours of the morning wrestling with your inner demons. You don’t know how long you lay there, torturing yourself with what you knew Dean must be doing, and your insides burned with jealousy. 'Over what?’ you thought. 'He’s not even yours, not really.’ You pulled your pillow over your face, trying to ease the throbbing behind your eyes.

'But you wish he was.’

Silent tears streaked from the corners of your eyes. How many times had you had this argument with yourself? Tossing your pillow to the floor, you swung your legs out of bed, groaning as the pain in your head intensified. Fumbling around in the nightstand next to your bed, you located a bottle of aspirin and removed 3 capsules before returning it to the drawer. You stood slowly, carefully making your way around your bed and through the bedroom door.

You flinched at the light in the hallway, squinting your eyes as you walked to the kitchen so your eyes could adjust. 'You have got to stop doing this to yourself’ you thought upon your arrival. How many times had you gotten wasted to numb yourself? You’d lost count. You filled a glass with water from the faucet and swallowed the pills. There was a soft 'clink’ as you set the glass in the sink before running your fingers through your hair and leaving the kitchen.

You stopped in front of Dean’s door on the way back to your room, just looking at it. You knew he wasn’t back yet, knew he would be gone for at least a few more hours. You reached a hand out, lightly touching the dark wood of the door and feeling it’s smoothness beneath your fingertips. Was staying here and putting yourself through this time and again for the random casual fuck worth it?

You took in a deep breath.

'No’ you thought, dropping your hand and walking away.

——————

It had been two months since you’d left the bunker and gone home. You had left a note saying you had some things you needed to work through. You didn’t trust yourself to leave if you’d said an actual goodbye. Dean had tried to call you, and had texted dozens of times. You’d responded once, just to say that you were ok. You knew that you weren’t being fair, but you didn’t want him to know where you were. You needed to be alone.

You were combing your hair before bed when you heard a knock on the door downstairs. Eyes darting to the clock, you furrowed your brow wondering who it could be at 12 o'clock. Setting the brush down you grabbed the gun you kept next to your bed, holding it at your side as you slowly slid out of your room and down the stairs. The knocking came again, this time sounding more desperate. Your pulse thundered in your ears, nearly drowning out the sounds at the door.

When you got near enough you looked through the peephole, sighing when you saw who it was. Unlocking the door, you swung it open to reveal the eldest Winchester brother, looking very agitated and imposing on your doorstep.

“What are you doing here, Dean?” you asked, not quite meeting his gaze. He looked down at you, green eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean what am I doing here? What are you doing here?” he asked.

You sighed and open the door wider for him to come in. “I’m too sober for this shit,” you said heading towards the kitchen. As you opened the fridge and bent over to pull out two beers, you heard the front door close and heavy booted footsteps enter the kitchen.

“Well?” he almost shouted to your bent over form. You straightened with two dark brown bottles in your hand, letting the refrigerator door close as you moved away from it. You pulled open a drawer, rummaging around for a bottle opener and still not looking at Dean. You found it at the very back, and popped the top off of your bottle before setting it down next to the other on the counter. Bringing it to your lips, you chug half of the dark liquid it in one go before setting it down and looking at Dean fully for the first time in months.

He looked furious. His body was rigid with his hands clenched at his sides and shoulders squared. Green eyes glared at you darkly from a hard set face. You had expected he might be a little upset when you had left, but not this. You took a deep breath to steady your voice. “Well what?”

He stalked forward, pointing a finger at you. “You just decide to up and leave without a word, no mention of where you are going?”

“I left a note, Dean. I told you I needed to work out some personal things,” you said, eliciting an unhappy grunt from him.

“What if something had happened to you?” he said, continuing to move forward so that he was standing in front of you, only a couple of feet away. “What if you’d been posessed or killed or bitten? Do you think I could have lived with myself? What the hell did you feel was so important and personal that you couldn’t deal with it at the bunker?!”

Tears stung at your eyes and you tried to blink them away, downing the rest of your beer. Dean watched you expectantly, clearly waiting for you to give him some sort of satisfactory answer.

You sighed and looked him in the eyes. Maybe you just needed to say it just this once. Maybe then he would go and you could finally start to move on. “Because I’m and idiot,” you said and Dean blinked, clearly not expecting that. “I know we have an arrangement, you and me. No strings, no feelings, just the occasional hook-up,” you paused and he nods. Biting your lips between your teeth, you turn away and continue. “But….I can’t do it anymore.” It’s quiet, and you can feel him move up close behind you. He gently grips your shoulders and turns you to face him. Hooking a finger beneath your chin, he lifts your face to look at his. His face looks softer, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“Why’s that, Y/N?”

You looked into his eyes and averted your gaze, moving your head from his grasp. Clenching your fists and taking a deep breath, you said the words you’d told youself that you’d never say out loud. “My stomach drops when I think of anyone else having you.” Your voice came out as barely more than a whisper, and the quiet stretched between the two of you. It lasted so long that you weren’t even sure he had heard you, but then you felt his strong arms on your shoulders, turning you to face him. You looked up into his face and his beautiful green eyes immediately sought out yours.

You got lost looking into those eyes and before you knew it his lips were on yours. His kiss was slow and gentle, so unlike the harsh kisses that you’d shared before. You breathed him in, savoring his feel and warmth. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean asked, his voice soft as he pulled you against his chest. You closed your eyes as you curled your fingers into his shirt.

“I was afraid,” you said. “I didn’t think I could handle the rejection, that what we did have was enough. But I realized that I was slowly killing myself by staying, watching you go off with other women, and numbing my pain with booze. I knew I couldn’t get over you if I stayed, so I left.”

“You didn’t think I would want to be with you?” his arms tightened around you as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

You bit your lip and shook your head, painful emotion rising in your chest. “I’ve known you for years, Dean. You’ve never been in, or shown any interest in being in an actual relationship. With anyone. Why would I think it would be different with me?”

Dean pulled away from you enough so that he could look down at you. “Y/N of course it’s different with you, you’re different than anyone I’ve ever known.” He tilted your head up again so that you were looking at him. “You’re special to me, Y/N, you have to know that.” Sliding his hand to your cheek he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “I didn’t pursue anything more serious with you because I didn’t know you felt this way. I had no idea you were suffering. I thought you were happy.” The pained look on his face was almost too much for you to bear, so you leaned up on tippy toes to plant a kiss on his soft lips.

He grunts and deepens the kiss as he moved the hand cupping your face to gently slide down your neck and shoulder. He moved your arms so they are around his neck before pulling you up. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“What are you doing?”

“Making it up to you,” he says, carrying you off to your room where he proceeded to show you exactly what you meant to him.


End file.
